


All Saints' Wake

by Issinder



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: All Saints' Wake, Feels, Gen, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 21:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16437419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Issinder/pseuds/Issinder
Summary: The Warrior of Light and Zenos prepare for All Saints' Wake. Let's hope they have enough cookies.





	All Saints' Wake

The wonderful smell of freshly-baked cookies filled the air, and Zenos drifted over to the kitchen area where the oven had been in active use pretty much all day. Argryss was humming a tune while cutting shapes out of yet another batch of sweet cookie dough.  
‘Do we not yet have enough pumpkins?’  
Argryss smiled. ‘I believe we can have a few more. Would you like to press a few more ghosts, perhaps?’  
‘I think our selection would benefit from more bats,’ the prince responded earnestly.

When had things become this homely? Argryss tried to pinpoint exactly when this had happened but could not quite settle on an exact timeline. Suffice it to say that Zenos had now taken up more or less permanent residence in his house. They sparred whenever Argryss was not busy running errands for the Scions, and usually ended up sitting around in the house and not talking to each other afterward. Initially, this put the Roegadyn on edge. He remembered their initial meeting in the tavern and a hand touching his face, but nothing of the sort had happened since. The only time there was any physical contact between them was during their sparring sessions. He didn’t feel like pressing the matter any further, annoyed that this minor gesture was still floating around in his mind.

He pushed a slab of cookie dough over to his house guest, as well as the bat-shaped cookie cutter. ‘Feel free to make more bats.’  
Zenos set to work, diligently cutting out as many bats as the dough would allow on a first pass, then reshaping it to get a few more. Argryss stopped what he was doing to watch his guest work. Zenos was a quick learner, and he’d noticed fairly quickly how Argryss went about cutting out all of those shapes, noting he would kneed and reshape the dough after the initial cutting to ensure little to none was lost.  
Zenos looked up to find his beast looking at his work. ‘Are they to your liking?’ he said in a clipped tone of voice.  
Argryss frowned. ‘You think I disapprove?’  
‘I… do not know,’ came the hesitant response. Zenos carefully placed the bats upon one of the many trays, ready to be placed in the oven.  
‘I do not. In fact, I approve most heartily of your dedication and hard work. I’ll make a baker of you yet.’  
Zenos snorted. ‘A fitting position for a royal has-been. Butcher, baker or candlestick maker.’  
Argryss suppressed the urge to laugh. ‘You have a flair for the dramatic. I see a future in brightly-coloured pastries.’

A strange sound hit the Roegadyn’s ear. It took him a moment to realise the prince was laughing, but genuinely, not the usual insane cackling he was prone to. Zenos himself also seemed surprised as he stopped after a mere second or two, looking confused.  
‘...Be that as it may,’ the prince continued, ‘I have yet to be told what purpose is served by all this baking. Surely my room and board have not eaten into your finances to the extent that you need to immerse yourself in any business other than feats of heroism?’  
Argryss shook his head. ‘Indeed not, but surely you must have noticed the people traipsing around in various states of unusual dress today?’  
Zenos nodded. ‘Another curious aspect.I assume this is some form of festival? A way to entertain the masses and distract them from their otherwise mundane lives?’ he said with no lack of disdain.

‘Exactly.’

Well, that was surprising. The prince was sure that his beast was going to give him an earful about his choice of phrasing. Argryss meanwhile pulled a batch of cookies out of the oven and set them aside to cool down. Various baskets of cookies where already set up and sorted by type.  
‘It’s All Saints’ Wake. It’s a festival of fancy dress, haunted mansions and all sorts of spooky mischief for children and adults alike. Part of the festivities involve children dressing up, visitng houses in the neighbourhood, singing a song and getting some form of treat and a compliment or two about their costumes.’  
Zenos nodded vaguely, placing his bat cookies in the oven. As long as he got to taste these cookies, he would accept the minor inconvenience of lesser creatures begging for a snack.  
‘I’m going to assume today’s baked creations are for the aforementioned children?’  
Argryss nodded. ‘Indeed.’  
‘Not all of them, surely?’ It sounded almost petulant.  
‘Of course not, hence why I am making so many. I had to go without one year and promised myself I would not let it happen again.’ Argryss took on a faraway look, as if dealing with a childhood trauma.  
Zenos raised an eyebrow. ‘You truly are the stuff of legend.’  
‘Question my acting again and I shall cut your cookie rations.’

Zenos grumbled but the eyebrow went back to its normal position.  
‘Whenabouts are we to expect all of these children?’  
‘Usually shortly after dark. We have plenty of time to place a few decorations in the garden, which we will add some candles to so they know they can come here for treats. I’m still waiting for some of the pumpkins, though.’  
‘Like moths to a flame,’ the prince commented, a glint in his eye.  
‘Uh, yes. That’s a… great comparison.’  
‘...Do we not dress up for the occasion?’  
Argryss felt his eyes grow a size. ‘I… had honestly not considered this. My apologies. It is certainly not obligatory, however. It is not even expected.’  
‘Mayhap next year,’ Zenos said.  
‘Indeed. Next year,’ Argryss agreed. If they were both still alive by then.

There was a knock on the door. Zenos opened it and a young woman and a gaggle of children walked in, each carrying a pumpkin.  
‘Thank you so much for letting us do this,’ the woman began, clearly in awe of the Warrior of Light. She’d heard he was tall, but this was even taller than she’d imagined. His slender frame and blue eyes really stood out and he exuded that aura of power you’d expect from someone who’d felled eikons.  
‘I-’ the “Warrior” began, but she had to tell him how she felt.  
‘No, please. It was the least we could do after what you did for my sister. Those creatures were a hair’s breadth from tearing her apart and if you hadn’t intervened, well…’ The woman was crying at this point, but her younger sister had had enough.  
‘Lina, that’s not the Warrior of Light,’ the young girl said, grabbing her sister by the sleeve and dragging her to where Argryss was standing, watching the spectacle before him unfold.  
‘This is the Warrior of Light,’ the girl continued.  
Argryss smiled. ‘Hey, Arien. You’re looking well. Did you have fun carving pumpkins?’  
The little girl beamed. ‘I really did, but I don’t think they smell all that great, and now the whole school smells of pumpkin.’ She handed over the one she was carrying, which had a sort of cat-like face carved into it. ‘It’s the lady who was with you.’  
‘Y’Shtola?’  
‘Yeah, she’s very pretty.’  
‘That she is. I think you’ve done a wonderful job and I’m sure Y’Shtola would like it too.’

Lina, meanwhile, had regained some of her composure.  
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled to the tall man by the door. How could she have forgotten that the Warrior of Light was a Roegadyn, not an Elezen? It wasn’t exactly an insignificant difference.  
Zenos merely nodded. The other children had already placed their pumpkins in various places near the door and walked back outside. Lina apologised once again while Arien gave Argryss a hug and smiled at Zenos. ‘It’s okay. You can be a Warrior of Light, too,’ she said.  
‘Arien!’  
‘What? Why not?’ the little girl asked her sister, but neither man heard what the answer was, as Zenos closed the door behind them, bursting into a fit of insane laughter. ‘Me? A Warrior of Light? Did you hear?’ he managed to say, gasping for breath. Argryss let him have his fun while looking at the pumpkins. Some of them were recognisable as faces or animal shapes, while others were… different. He appreciated all of them, however. It was a nice gesture of the local school to have the children carve these for him. It also saved him some work today, which was a welcome gift. The baking had taken up practically all his time. Being the Warrior of Light meant everyone expected things from you, such as being available during these public holidays. Truth be told, he felt more like an exhibit than a man. Then, a thought occurred to him.  
‘Perhaps you should be the Warrior of Light for the evening,’ he mused. Zenos’s laughter ended abruptly.  
‘Surely you jest?’  
‘Far from it. There are plenty of people out there who know I live here, but do not know what exactly I look like. I keep a low profile and generally travel at night so I can come and go unmolested.’  
‘Celebrity really does take its toll,’ Zenos mused.  
‘If it is based on respect rather than fear,’ Argryss responded.  
‘Oh? Surely you understand that these people fear you, as well?’  
‘I…’ Argryss frowned. ‘Perhaps.’  
‘Do you want them to fear you more?’ The leer accompanying this sentence was one for the ages.  
‘You know what? Yes. Just… don’t push it too far. I quite like my current abode and would prefer to keep on living here.’

Zenos didn’t quite know what to make of this whole situation. He had counted on being told no and how dare he even suggest such a thing. Yet, here he was, with explicit permission to pretend to be the Warrior of Light.  
‘Your first activity for the day will be to help me place these pumpkins in front of the house in a way that looks at least moderately appealing.’

A few minutes later and Argryss couldn’t help but nod appreciatively. Really, he wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting from a man who lived in a nation full of snow.  
‘Is this not a splendid stack?’ Zenos said, noting his beast staring at his work.  
‘I would think of this as more of a winter thing.’  
‘I am aware,’ the prince retorted snidely. ‘I am merely wondering why, when such a thing is clearly acceptable in winter, it would not be so now?’  
A stack of pumpkins, resembling a snowman. Argryss quite liked it.  
‘The Warrior of Light is a man for all seasons, and will not settle for less than having all of them at the same time,’ Zenos smiled.  
‘Then what shall we do for spring and summer?’  
Zenos looked around him at the environment that practically oozed autumn.  
‘I do not know.’  
‘Two out of four seasons isn’t a bad score. Just remember to not put any candles in the bottom ones. We don’t want any burned pumpkins.’

They set to work on the rest of the front garden. Whenever Argryss noticed someone looking at them, he made a big deal of asking Zenos for his opinion, seeing as it was HIS house and all that, what with him being so GOSH-DARNED important to Eorzea.  
Zenos, meanwhile, found that he was actually enjoying the charade. It was not like he wasn’t already involved in one to begin with, so why not expand the repertoire?  
‘Yes, my friend, I am indeed an important man, and you’d do well to remember it,’ he boasted, each hand balled into a fist and placed defiantly on his hips. ‘All of Eorzea would do well to fear me as I lay waste to her every foe and bathe in oceans of Garlean blood, moo hoo ha ha!’  
The couple who were passing by quickly moved on. Perhaps the moo hoo ha ha had been a bit much.  
‘Have you actually bathed in oceans of Garlean blood?’ Argryss asked quietly.  
‘Not entire oceans, but mayhap a large bathtub,’ Zenos admitted. ‘A foe is a foe, be they Garlean, Eorzean or any other. I have found many a Garlean wanting in combat, while certain Eorzeans…’ He looked at his beast, but Argryss merely shrugged.  
‘Such is life, oh brave Warrior.’  
‘Do not make a mockery of these events. If we are to deceive the populace I need absolute truth from you,’ Zenos responded, taking on the roll of director as well as male lead. ‘I think what you need is to appear shorter. Could you slouch more?’  
‘Could I- No. I am a tall, broad-shouldered Roegadyn. It would help you but little given your current form. Just exude more raw power.’  
A glint in Zenos’s eye told Argryss that mayhap he should not have said that. Red circles began to form in the prince’s eyes and a red gleam surrounded him, the air crackling with raw energy.  
‘I… think that might be a little too much. Could you perhaps exude in a more subdued fashion?’ The air around the Roegadyn felt tight and corrupted, though the latter might just be Hydaelyn’s influence on his perception. Perhaps to others it just felt like a heavy, uncompromising cloud.  
‘I either exude or not,’ the prince replied. ‘T would be a meager thing, otherwise.’  
‘Meager to you is grand to the common folk,’ Argryss warned him. ‘Try meager for a spell. You might find it more suitable.’  
Zenos took a few deep breaths and the air around him quieted. A sliver of it remained, however, giving him that bit of extra Argyrss assumed people might consider a Warrior of Light vibe. He nodded at the prince. ‘Precisely so.’  
An old man passing by looked at Zenos, then at Argryss, then back to Zenos. ‘You are a brave man, sir. Bless your hard work.’ He took off his hat to Zenos, then walked on.  
‘Very well, my beast,’ Zenos said, taking the last of the pumpkins that had been his pumpkin man and placing them along the path. ‘Some of these are true works of art, by which I mean they will spark many a lively conversation as to their true nature and meaning.’  
‘I think this one expresses the true meaning of ones name day,’ Argryss noted about one particularly interesting specimen, one hand cupping his chin and assuming what he considered a Thinking Face.  
‘Truly?’ Zenos came over, adopting a similar pose.  
‘Oh, indeed. One merely has to consider the vast emptiness behind the eyes, like a sort of vacuum almost, sucking all the joy out of life.’  
‘I shudder to think of the kind of name days you must have had,’ Zenos commented.  
‘What were yours like?’  
‘A bore.’  
‘I’ll bet they gave you a ton of presents,’ Argryss mused. ‘Yes, a veritable wagonload each year.’  
‘My father often remarked that the gift of life he had bestowed on me and the many years of training and tutors he’d provided me with would suffice.’  
‘...So no presents?’  
‘Indeed not. What need had I for those?’  
The two stood in silence for a moment.  
‘I was merely jesting. My name days were splendid,’ Argryss said.  
‘Lucky you.’  
‘When is yours?’  
Zenos hesitated, then told him. ‘That’s… not too far off.’  
‘Indeed not.’  
‘I’ll get you something.’  
Zenos snorted.  
‘I will.’  
‘I do not require you to make reparations for whatever affection was not bestowed upon me in my younger years,’ the prince retorted.  
‘That was not my intent,’ Argryss replied testily, ‘I simply wished to let you know that the past need not dictate the terms for the present or the future.’  
Zenos shook his head. ‘You cannot unmake anything. I am not some pile of dough to be reshaped for yet another bread.’  
Argryss rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘Zenos, by the Twelve, being a bit more malleable truly would not hurt you in any way.’  
‘You forget that I am the Warrior of Light now, and I shall do as I please,’ Zenos huffed, quick to don the title he’d been temporarily gifted for the evening.  
Argryss sighed. Just as quick as he’d managed to get a foot in the door, the man had chopped off said foot, flung it at him and slammed the door, and then slammed a few more he hadn’t even known were there. Well, the pumpkins were on full display and a plan was in place. He took a deep breath and went inside. The evening was still young but he had the feeling Zenos would make sure he’d aged a thousand years before the end.

‘There’ll be a knock on the door, you open it, some children will sing the song, you praise them and give each of them a cookie, that’s it,’ Argryss summed up.  
‘I’m sure it’s all pretty self-explanatory,’ the prince responded, waving off the worried look on the Roegadyn’s face. ‘Peasants display themselves before me, I pat them on the head and give them treats.’  
‘May the Twelve give me strength,’ Argryss whispered through gritted teeth.  
There was a knock on the door.  
‘That’s my cue, I think,’ Zenos replied. His time had come.  
He opened the door and a small flock of children burst into song.

‘All Saints’ Wake  
Give us Cake  
Or we’ll come back, your soul to take’

Zenos stood dumbfounded for a second. He rather liked his soul, it was the only part of him that was currently actually him.  
‘Whoa, the Warrior of Light is sooo tall,’ said a small child of undetermined gender in what appeared to be a Spriggan outfit.  
‘Well met, Spriggan offspring, would you perhaps care for a cookie?’ Zenos managed to blurt out, holding the basket of pumpkin-shaped cookies in front of him. What followed was a mad grab as all the little hands reached in at once. Zenos had felled some mighty foes, for sure, but these children were ravenous beasts.  
‘Thank you so much, I’m sorry they’re so eager. They’re usually better behaved,’ a harrowed voice, likely some form of maternal unit, said from behind the pack. ‘SAY THANK YOU TO THE NICE WARRIOR OF LIGHT!’  
That, at least, had some effect. The children said thank you to various degrees of intelligible, seeing as their faces were full of cookie.  
‘Y’welcome,’ Zenos mumbled, overcome by sheer numbers and volume, closing the door.  
Argryss sat in a chair, demonstrably reading a book, pretending to have no interest in proceedings.  
‘How did it go, my prince?’ he said innocently.  
‘Stick it up your arse, beast,’ Zenos replied.

There was another knock on the door. Zenos eyed it with trepidation.  
‘Now now, don’t keep the little mites waiting,’ Argryss said. ‘They want to sing you a song and have a cookie.’  
Zenos picked up another basket for the sake of wondrous variety and opened the door. This time, there was no pack of children. Just an old man dressed like a tiger.  
‘Growl,’ he said.  
‘Er,’ Zenos replied.  
‘Come now, young man. Surely you cannot think that only children go door to door when there’s free food to be had?’ the old man said with a smile a malm wide to the point where Zenos could count all the teeth he had on the fingers of one hand.  
‘Help yourself,’ the prince said, holding out the basket.  
‘I do believe I shall,’ the old man responded, taking a cookie, nodding politely and walking away.  
‘No song?’ Zenos managed to say.  
The old man just turned around and gave him a look. Zenos closed the door.

The next few times were more similar to the first one. Children came to the door, Zenos nodded in approval at their song and said they all looked splendid, and they took their treat and left. Once had he opened the door to a trio of young Elezen women, dressed in outfits that one could easily call risque, giggling like mad and eyeing him hungrily.  
‘Hiii! Vivianne said the Warrior of Light lived here, so we thought we’d come pay a visit to see if he’d like to celebrate with us,’ one of the girls said, moving her torso from side to side in what Zenos could only assume was a seductive motion.  
‘I… don’t know any Vivianne,’ he responded, about to close the door.  
‘Wait, did you say Vivianne?’ his beast said, popping up behind him.  
‘Gods, are you one of her stalkers?’ the girl who spoke earlier said, throwing Argryss a disgusted look. ‘We’re here to party with the Saviour of Eorzea, not just whoever.’  
‘I think he’s kind of cute,’ one of the other girls said, giving Argryss that patented come-hither look he’d read about in books.  
He closed the door.

They waited until the indignant chatter on the other side of the door had disappeared.  
‘Vivianne works for the local watering hole,’ Argryss explained. ‘She’s always trying to give me free ale.’  
‘And now we know why,’ Zenos replied. ‘I am honestly surprised you do not exploit your reputation more.’  
‘Oh, I did, it just always left me feeling empty.’  
‘Is emptying oneself not the goal of the exercise?’  
‘Stick it up your arse, Zenos.’  
Another knock on the door.  
‘Back to grind, oh Saviour,’ Argryss said, wresting himself from the staring contest they’d apparently started.

Zenos opened the door, already dreading having to hear the song yet again, or worse. He was surprised that in front of him stood not an enthusiastic gaggle of nestlings, but one rather lanky Miqo’te approximately of an age where he really should only be doing this to keep his 10-year-old sister and her friends company. He hadn’t really bothered to dress up in any way; the sheet he may have at some point worn to represent some form of ghost-like creature hung over his arm as he held out a sack expectantly.  
Zenos, getting annoyed with the turn the evening had taken, took a moment to stop himself from punching a hole through the aberration before him. Such an affront to the spirit of the festivities. Two could play at that game. Painfully slowly, Zenos took a pumpkin cookie out of the basket, lifted it as if to place it into the sack, then slowly moved it to his own mouth and bit down, all the while keeping eye contact with the brazen youth in front of him. The boy initially had the gall to look insulted, but the longer their staring contest lasted, and the more of the pumpkin cookie disappeared into Zenos’s chewing mouth, the more his look turned from unsettled, to worried, to downright terrified. What would happen when the tall man finished his cookie? The youth decided he did not want to find out, taking a few cautious steps away from the door, then legging it. Zenos closed the door with about the same speed as he was eating the cookie, pocketing his second staring contest win for the evening.

‘Do you think that was it?’ came the cautious question from the Warrior-for-the-evening. They had a fair number of bat cookies left because Zenos kept waiting for someone ‘worthy of them’, but most of the ghosts and pumpkins had disappeared into the mouths and bags of all their various visitors.  
‘It very well could be. It sounds quieter outside,’ Argryss agreed, listening. Of course, he had spoken out of turn. The knock on the door was so soft he could barely hear it, but Zenos had heard it too. He looked at Argryss.  
‘Go on, see who it is,’ his beast responded, his interest now also piqued.  
Zenos opened the door, initially not seeing anyone but a young Hyur woman smiling at him.  
‘I’m sorry, he’s a bit shy. It’s his first All Saints’ Wake and it’s not been great, to tell you the truth,’ she smiled sadly. ‘I did tell him he could always choose a different costume, but he was so adamant about this one I didn’t have the heart to tell him no.’  
At first, Zenos did not understand what she meant. The woman looked behind her. ‘Go on, sweetheart, it’s okay. The Warrior of Light won’t hurt you.’  
A small child stepped out from behind her, looking down at the ground. Zenos’s breath caught in his throat as he was looking at a miniature version of himself. This child, this small savage, had actually dared to don garb that looked very much like his armour, and was carrying a satchel with some sticks poking out of it, presumably to indicate his prized collection of swords.  
The boy started to mumble something. Zenos, his eyes now cold, sank down on one knee, lifting up the child’s chin.  
‘Speak up,’ he said.  
The boy froze, his eyes the size of saucers. Something about this image transported Zenos back to his own childhood, and he liked it not. Look at me, his father had said, it is for your own good that I do this.  
He let go, his face softening. ‘Truly, a prince of Garlemald should not be silenced so. Come, stand tall. You are Garlean royalty.’  
The boy, quickly rubbing his face with his sleeve, puffed out his chest and tried to look tough.  
‘There. Much better. Now,’ Zenos said, taking a small stick out of one of their decorations and brandishing it as if it were a sword, ‘let’s see your form, shall we?’  
‘I’m not too sure-’ the mother began, but the boy chose the stick he liked best from his satchel and held it in front of him, making a whoosh noise as if cutting the air, slashing at Zenos, who blocked every stroke. ‘Remember your stance. One foot forward, the other back. Shift your weight accordingly.’ For ten whole minutes, Zenos taught the boy the basics of sword fighting. For such a young creature, he really wasn’t doing all that poorly, but he could see the lad was beginning to tire.  
‘You’ve done well, young prince,’ Zenos said, still kneeling, as he took the lad’s satchel and emptying the bat cookie basket’s contents into it.  
‘Oh! That’s very generous of you, are you sure?’ the mother replied, looking worried.  
‘I am certain. The lad was a worthy opponent. To give him any less would be an insult,’ Zenos responded earnestly.  
The lad dropped his stick and lung his arms around Zenos’s neck. The prince stiffened, awkwardly patting the boy on the back.  
‘Come, Giliad, we’re going home.’  
‘Yes, mom. Thank you, sir,’ the boy said, beaming, and the pair disappeared into the night.

When Argryss went to see what was taking his house guest so long, Zenos was still kneeling there, empty basket in hand.  
‘Zenos?’  
‘Hm?’  
‘Is something the matter?’  
‘We’re out of bat cookies.’  
The prince was very specifically not looking at him, his body entirely still. Though this was not uncommon, there was something off-kilter about this stillness.  
‘My goodness, that must have been some costume.’  
‘I believe it is time we turn in for the night,’ Zenos said, getting up and exuding weariness.  
‘I suppose so,’ Argryss admitted. He too was feeling the strain of the evening. Watching Zenos struggle had been fun but tiring as he realised that opening the door and talking to people could actually have been quite fun and probably a bit less stressful than watching the Garlean in the Elezen skin do it, worrying whether or not he’d behave himself.

They snuffed out the candles in the pumpkins, indicating that they were no longer available for visitors, and finished off the last few cookies they had. Argryss grabbed his bedding and made up the couch to turn in for the night. Zenos went over to the stove, grabbed some milk and poured it into a pan. He stood there motionless, staring at the liquid on the unlit stove.

Argryss got up, lit the stove and took the various herbs from the shelf.  
‘Can you put in more lavender this time?’ Zenos asked quietly.  
‘Certainly.’  
‘Thank you.’


End file.
